What's Today?
by TrekkieandtheLeprechaun
Summary: READER ADVISORY: You may regret wasting five minutes of your life reading this story. Just sayin'.


_September 2012_

_Author's Note: WARNING: THIS STORY IS SO INTRINSICALLY STUPID AND PUERILE YOU SHOULD PROBABLY JUST GIVE UP ON IT NOW. _

Teaser

_Partyin' partyin' YEAH! Partyin' partyin' YEAH! Fun fun fun fun, lookin' forward to the weekend…_

"This is the last of its cultural database, my liege," the alien officer reported. The command center was dark, and the crewmen spoke in hushed voices.

"Select that one," a voice from the shadows commanded.

As the officer hurried away, the thing tapped its' finger-like appendages together.

"Be on your guard, Voyager," it muttered sinisterly to itself. "No one withstands…Friday."

Chapter One 

Lieutenant Tom Paris sat at the helm, turned around completely to face his friends on the bridge. They'd been swapping steadily-worsening jokes for the past half hour.

"Okay, I've got one. How many Romulans does it take to screw in a hololight fixture?"

"How many?" Chakotay asked wearily.

"150: One to screw it in and 149 to self-destruct the ship out of disgrace!"

The bridge crew erupted into laughter- well, except for lieutenant Tuvok, who was as stony-faced as ever over at Tactics.

Harry Kim grinned. "Why did the Klingon cross the road?"

"Obviously, there was something deserving of its' attention on the other side," Seven of Nine snarled from her station behind the command team chairs.

Chakotay shook his head and checked the chronometer. Three more hours of this!

He looked to his captain's empty chair. Captain Janeway was in deep discussion with Neelix in the mess hall about the inhabitants of the sector Voyager was about to enter. Chakotay wished he could join them as Tom and Harry hooted with laughter at the latest infinitesimally stupid punch line.

A sudden beeping pulled the crew out of their banter. Tom swiveled around in his chair.

"Commander, a ship matching our trajectory just dropped out of high warp." Harry reported nervously. "They're charging weapons!"

"Shield up and hail them!" Chakotay commanded, shifting in his seat. "Onscreen!"

A boxy white ship appeared to the bridge. It was large and heavily armed, with many sinister-looking weapons lining the underside of the sweeping wings. Before the bridge crew could even react, a single, neon green beam shot out from the ship, zoomed straight through Voyager's shields and continued on- Chakotay barely had time to duck before it travelled on and scorched the bulkhead behind him, causing a fizzle of green sparks.

"The ship is gone," Tuvok stated stoically.

No sooner had he spoken then a terrible, nasal voice rang out over the shipwide comm.

It was a voice so evil, so warped and twisted, that it sent shivers' down the crews spine.

Chakotay had seen many horrors in his day, but as long as he lived, he hoped that he need never listen to that god-awful voice ever again.

_It's Friday, Friday, gotta get down on Friday! Everybody's looking forward to the weekend, weekend, Friday, Friday, gettin' down on Friday…. _

"What _is_ this?!" B'Elanna yelled over the blaring music, hands over her ears.

Tom had gone extremely pale, and even Tuvok looked shaken.

"The beam seems to have hacked our cultural database and inserted a virus into the main computer," the Vulcan called out, the normal calm in his voice noticeably missing.

_…wakin' up in the morning, gotta get dressed gotta go downstairs. Gotta have my bowl gotta have cereal, seein' everyone the time is goin' tickin on and on everybody's…"_

Harry was doubled over at his station at Optics. He whimpered. It was as though the peppy beats were pounding into his very soul.

Chakotay staggered out of his chair and clung onto the railing. "B'Elanna," he cried, eyes watering at the terribleness of the music. "Shut off the main computer!"

"It's not responding!" B'Elanna roared desperately, hunched over the console as she typed away frantically.

"MAKE IT STOP!" Tom screamed, falling to the floor and twitching.

Seven stood perfectly rigid, eyes wide with panic as her Borg implants started smoking.

Chakotay half-crawled towards his console, but the despair was overwhelming- the music was only growing louder-

_Tomorrow is Saturday, and Sunday, comes afterwards...I DON'T WANT THIS WEEKEND TO END! It's- _

*ZAP!*

An orange phaser blast hit the command team's console, and suddenly, the most beautiful sound in the world blessed Chakotay's aching ears- silence. Half the bridge crew was collapsed on the carpet, muscles spasms due to the puerile music slowly subsiding. The other half were frozen in place as though the awful noise had glued them there.

The Commander, who was on his hands and knees, noticed the toe of a boot and looked up into the face of his savior.

Captain Janeway stood on the upper level, one hand on her hip, the other clutching a phaser. Following her gaze, Chakotay saw the still-smoking console.

Janeway met his watery gaze. Her eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips.

"Today's not Friday." She said coolly.

Epilogue

Captain Janeway stepped out of the turbolift. The bridge was eerily silent, as the whole ship had been ever since the attack. She slid over to the Tactics console where Harry was working, muttering to himself a little.

"How're you holding up?" The captain asked quiet, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The young ensign jumped a little at her touch.

"I don't know, Captain." He shuddered. "I don't know if I'll ever be the same."

She nodded gravely.

Janeway took her seat next to Chakotay. He had tried to be brave for the sake of the crew, but Janeway knew the strain her best friend was taking. She took a long look at the dark circles under his haunted eyes, the worry lines creased into along his tattoo, and gripped his hand briefly. Then she stood up and stepped to the middle of the bridge. The crew turned to listen as she cleared her throat.

"Of all the horrors we've encountered on this turbulent journey, this has certainly been the most…harrowing," Janeway began seriously. "I know recovery the psychological attack will not be easy-" her eyes darted over to Tuvok's station. The vulcan was still laughing hysterically in Sickbay, driven completely mad by the horror he had been exposed to. "- but somehow, together, we will find a way home. I've erased that song from our cultural database so that never again will human ears be subjected to the terror known as…as…-" the bridge crew winced as she said the name. "Friday."

Janeway sighed and took her seat.

"Mister Paris, set a course for home."

_Didn't I tell you so? Lemme know what you think:) _


End file.
